Sunday, July 8, 2007

Phillies V. Mets






At the outset of this entry I have to admit that I'm more of a wanna-be baseball enthusiast than a certified baseball enthusiast. Many a wife has faced the sometimes uncomfortable truth that their husband is a sport(s) enthusiast, and I am no different. In the hopes of maintaining my relationship and spending time with my husband during the aforementioned sport(s) season(s), I've embraced baseball as my new sport: Favorite team? Check. (Phillies, soon the only sports team in history to lose 10,000 games) Favorite player? Check. (Ryan Howard, slugger sometimes-extraordinaire) Favorite mascot? Check. (The Fanatic, whose rotund belly never ceases to entertain me, even if the game isn't.)

I still make many rookie errors, such as (but certainly not limited to) asking what the score is when it is posted in various places (in various ways) throughout the stadium, needing clarification on the type of pitch just thrown -- Is the slider diferent than a curve ball or is it simply a curve ball that slides? Where is Scooter when I need him? -- and in general just being there for the beer and pretzels. I never fail in the area of trash-talking, which was recently demonstrated at the Cubs V. Phillies game, where "Chase Butt Utley" was called out more than once, to the detriment of our safety in a stadium of 40,000 Phillies fans. (I also moonlight as a Cubs fan.) Needless to say, this will not be a blog in the vein of sports writing.

With this caveat, let me tell you about the Phillies V. Mets game Russ and I attended last week. These two teams are National League East rivals, due to their geographic proximity. Unfortunately, the Philly fans at this game must have been too tired or depressed at the score (or the looming 10,000 mark) to demonstrate the roughhousing we've heard sometimes happens at these games. The Phillies lost 5-2 (or something like that; I stopped bugging Russ for the score around 3-1), and the only fireworks were off the field, set off after the game to celebrate the 4th. The Phillies fans did boo whenever any decent Mets players came up to bat: Beltron, Reyes, and Wright's only sins were being good players and not being on the right team. Phillies fans also booed one of their own, Burrell, who is currently in the middle of a slump. All in all, it was not the most exciting baseball game -- after the Phillies failed to rally and tie the game, the only animated characters were wearing Mets shirts. The Fanatic seemed to rouse some by smashing a Mets batting helmet to the tune of Sinatra's New York, New York, a testament to the rivalry. But, as I'm learning, a real baseball fan isn't there just for the wins. They're there to watch a baseball game. After all, there are 80-plus more games in the season and plenty of time for this year to become The Year. Plenty of time for me to distinguish the curve from the slider.











Down the Shore


We went to the beautiful Jersy shore last weekend, to Cape May, which was gorgeous. I was expecting New Jersey to be an apocalytic wasteland, filled with industrial complexes leaking dangerous chemials, nuclear power plants, and landfills. Although we did pass by a nuclear power plant on the way I found the entirity of our New Jersey trip to be 100% agreeable. I'm not sure where all this bad reputation has come from.
We went with some friends from Philly, one of which had just gotten a new Helga Lomography camera, and took some cool pictures. I want one now but I may first try to break my camera so it takes crummy pictures, which may be a more organic route to a lomo.